


where we've been and where we're going

by orphan_account



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Cowboys in Love, Established Relationship, M/M, Nostalgia, also handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-01 09:58:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16762876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He catches himself daydreaming sometimes, when he’s not expecting it. About the broad line of Charles’ shoulders, the low murmur of his voice as he soothes Taima, the roughness of his palms and how they feel against his own. He wasn’t sure he’d ever have this again with someone, wasn’t sure it was possible.It ain’t quite love, but it’s definitelysomethin’





	where we've been and where we're going

Arthur is thirteen when he shoots a gun for the first time. It’s been a few months now since he’s started traveling with Dutch and Hosea and he's been hinting at Dutch to teach him for weeks. It’s a cool, spring afternoon when Dutch finally agrees it’s time for him to learn.

"Fix your feet, Arthur." Dutch calls from behind him after he misses another shot at the bottle. Arthur scowls at the bullet lodged into the wood, at least he hit the log that time.

“Damn it.” He huffs, annoyed at himself. Hosea and Dutch always made this look so easy. He hikes his jeans up from where their sliding off his hips, he’s grown recently. He’s all knees and elbows and his voice has taken on an embarrassing crack at inopportune moments. It’s been harder the find trousers that fit his tall, lanky frame.

“How's shootin' at bottles gonna help me anyway, Dutch?

“Use your brain Arthur, I know you got one. You ain’t gonna hit a moving target if you can’t hit one sittin’ still.” Dutch barks a laugh, Arthur adjusts his stance and lines up another shot. "Unless you plan to turn ‘em to stone first with that scrawny rear end of yours hanging out, remind me we need to get you a pair of suspenders when we're back in town."

"Shut up!" He calls back over his shoulder, face heating up.

"Gotta learn to crawl before you can walk, son." He takes a pull from the cigarette between his ringed fingers. "Now, try again. You got two more rounds in that chamber. Pull the hammer down, aim, breathe, and squeeze the trigger."

Arthur turns and does his best to do as Dutch says. He wants to be able to go out on jobs with Hosea and him someday, earn his keep, do more than tend the horses and pick pockets.

'Crawl before you walk' He lines up his shot, hears the click of the hammer, and pulls the trigger.

He misses.

"Again!" Dutch calls. "Focus."

He can do this, he knows it.

He will do this.

Pull, aim, breathe, squeeze.

The glass shatters.

"I hit it!" He laughs, incredulously "Did you see?"

He turns to Dutch and sees him smiling broadly with his arms outstretched, "Just like I said! We'll make a gunslinger of you yet, Arthur Morgan!”

"You think so?" He asks jogging back towards Dutch, he claps a hand on Arthurs' shoulder.

"Course I do, just have to keep practicing. We'll make you the quickest shot in the West." He waves a hand at the pistol when Arthur offers it back to him. "Why don't you hang onto that for now. We'll come out again tomorrow." He tosses his cigarette butt away and checks his pocket watch. "Now come on, we've got to meet Hosea in town, see if he made heads or tails of that lead he was followin' up on." He nods towards the horses where they've been grazing a little ways off.

Arthur hums tucking the pistol into his saddlebag, still floating from the shot he got. He can't wait to tell Hosea. Maybe he can come out tomorrow too.

"You'll need to finish your readin' before we come back out, make sure you get it done tonight. I won't have Hosea naggin' me about you neglectin' your studies." Dutch tells him, giving his horse a pat and climbing into the saddle.

"Alright." He rolls his eyes and heaves himself onto his new mare, a gift from Dutch.

"How's she treatin' you?" He asks as they ride back through the trees towards the main road.

"Real good, I like her a lot."

"Good! Don't say I never bought you nothin'"

"You stole her, Dutch."

Dutch throws his head back with a laugh. "I know a good take when I see one, and she was a good take. I picked her out special for you at least. " They ride in comfortable silence for a moment, "You think of a name for her yet?"

He shakes his head "Not yet."

"Well get a move on, son. A good name's what makes a horse yours. Now, come on, let’s pick up the pace, don't want to keep Hosea waitin' on us." He clicks his tongue and spurs his horse on faster, and Arthur follows.

\----  
Never did become the quickest shot in the West, Arthur muses, as he cleans his gun by the fire, but he likes to think he does alright. And that mare, she was a good girl. Violet, he’d called her.

Things were simpler then. Back when it was just the three of them, out on the open road. He misses it sometimes, especially with all the stupid shit that’s been happening lately. He could do with something being easy in his life right now.

Something simple.

He finishes up and places the pistol back in his holster, shoves the dirty rag in his pocket. He's got nothin' particular to do today, and he's a little bored to be honest. Downtime is a luxury, for him at least, and he knows he’ll want to make himself scarce soon, before somebody wants something from him.

Most likely Pearson.

Or Strauss.

Or Uncle.

Needy bastards.

Fishing, he decides as he stands, knees cracking, that’s what he’ll do today. Maybe head back down to that little spot on the river Javier showed him. It’s a nice day for it.

He makes his way back over to his lean-to to grab his things. He can distantly hear some of the gang starting their day. He’s shoving a new bottle of whiskey into his satchel when he hears Pearson call out to Charles, far too loudly for this early in the morning. His ears perk up then, Charles wasn’t due back until tomorrow. He’d rode out the day before last to scope out a potential job in Strawberry, rumors of a still running beneath the general store.

“A good haul Mr Smith, as usual!” Pearson examines the doe Charles lays at his feet. “Good work.”

“Happy to help.” He hears Charles’ quiet response as he sets a pair of rabbits on Pearsons workbench.

Arthur watches him from the corner of his eye, pretends to adjust the strap of his satchel. He’s a welcome sight. Looks tired though, Arthur notes, must have rode through the night and went hunting besides.

Charles waves off more of Pearson's thanks and makes a beeline for the coffee.

He wonders at the odds of Charles coming out with him today, fishing’s not his favorite thing to do, but it’s been a bit since they’ve ridden out together. Especially since, well, since this thing of theirs started.

Can’t hurt to ask, he thinks, and makes his way over towards him.

“Alright, Charles?” He pours himself a coffee, more to have something to do with his hands rather than an immediate need for caffeine. “How’d you make out?”

“Shopkeeper’s definitely cooking something down there, but I don’t think it’d be worth the effort, not right now anyway.” He murmurs. “Town’s crawling with lawmen.”

“Shit, don’t remind me.” Arthurs grumbles, that damned fool Micah, nearly got them both shot full of holes a few weeks back. “Shoulda let that dumb bastard swing.”

“Probably.” Charles hums into his coffee.

This thing between them, it's still relatively new. Still fresh. He catches himself daydreaming sometimes, when he’s not expecting it. About the broad line of Charles’ shoulders, the low murmur of his voice as he soothes Taima, the roughness of his palms and how they feel against his own. He wasn’t sure he’d ever have this again with someone, wasn’t sure it was possible.

It ain’t quite love, but it’s definitely _somethin’_.

“Is.. there something you needed, Arthur?” Charles finishes his coffee, pulling Arthur back to the surface.

“Uhh..” he clears his throat, feels a little hot under the collar. “You got a lot goin’ on today, Charles?”

Charles huffs a laugh “You’re lookin at it.”

“Feel like going fishin’?”

“Not really.”

“Ah well..” He rubs at the back of his neck, a nervous habit. “Wanna come anyway?”

“Of course.” He give him a soft smile then, takes Arthurs cup from him gently and drains it.

He’d forgotten he was even holding it.

Arthur loses the battle with the goofy grin that’s been threatening to bubble to the surface ever since he saw Charles back this morning.

“Alright then, let’s get goin’.”

\----  
The fish, it turns out, aren’t really biting today. He managed to snag a couple though, so not a total waste.

‘Good enough’ he thinks.

"Sorry this ain’t been very interestin’ for you, Charles." Arthur calls back over his shoulder as he packs away his bait.

He makes his way over to the tree Charles has been posted up against, having given up long before Arthur, and drops down beside him, tosses his gear aside.

"It’s fine.” He says, bumping their shoulders together. “It’s nice, just bein’ here with you."

He can feel the color rushing to his cheeks.

“You know, you’re a real charmer when you wanna be, Mr Smith.” He teases, fishing out the bottle of whiskey from his satchel and offering it to him.

“When I wanna be.” He agrees, pops the top off and takes a swig. Arthur watches the bob of his throat and feels his own tighten. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Secrets safe with me.” He hums, greedy for any piece of Charles he can have for himself.

“Take this.” He passes the bottle back to Arthur. “I’ve got somethin’ for you.” He reaches around him to where he dropped his pack earlier, places a hand on Arthurs thigh to steady himself.

Arthur takes a deep drink.

“Here, from my last pack.” he places a cigarette card in Arthur's hand. “You’ve been collecting them, right?” he asks, giving Arthur’s thigh a light squeeze.

He had no idea what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. It’s a relatively new hobby he’s picked up, he doesn’t remember telling Charles about it.

“Uh yeah, I do.” It’s from the Fauna of America set, Hummingbird Sage. He clears his throat “How did you-”

“I’ve seen you sneakin’ them into your bag.” He teases and grabs the bottle back from him, takes another drink. “Just thought you’d like it.”

“I do..thank you.” He feels that familiar warmth start to spread in his chest, the one he’s begun to associate with Charles, even when they’re apart. The hand on his thigh might also be a factor in this specific instance.

“Sweet when you wanna be.” He murmurs fondly, placing the card in the pocket of his vest. “C’mere.”

He leads Charles into a kiss, feels him smile against his lips. He can taste the whiskey on his tongue, the bottle itself now forgotten in the grass. It’s slow and sweet and he can’t help the sigh that escapes his lips.

Charles’ hand moves further up his thigh, warmth rolls low and lazy in his belly, arousal thrumming under his skin. They’ve not gone farther than this before, haven’t had much of a chance to, but Arthur is half hard and eager, he prays that Charles’ is of a similar mind.

Charles pulls back and moves to straddle his lap, and it seems like he just might be.

“This okay?” He whispers into the skin of Arthurs throat.

“More than.” He says, breathless, pulls Charles closer by the hips, touch starved and wanting. “Anythin’ you want -anythin’.”

Charles cups his face in his hands “This is about what you want too, fool.”

He grips the back of Charles’ shirt and pulls him closer still. “I just want you, Charles.” his voice raw.

“You have me.” And he rocks against him.

It’s overwhelming. The weight of Charles in his lap, strong thighs straddling his own, low breathy sounds against his lips, the heat that churns slow and smooth in his belly like molten rock as they move together. His own imagination could never have prepared him.

“Pl- Charles please, touch me.” It comes out as a whine but he’s too far gone to care.

“I’ve got you.” He kisses the corner of his mouth, the scar on his chin. “Fuck, Arthur.”

Arthur hisses as Charles frees him the tight confines of his jeans, his heart in his throat. His hands fumble at Charles own, he falters for a moment, unsure. But the way Charles groans as he gives him a tentative stroke, the way precum dribbles from the tip, the weight of him in his hand.. it's all the encouragement he needs.

He’s beautiful.

It’s simple.

The grip Charles has on his own cock is distracting in the most delicious way. He moans as Charles thumbs the head of his cock, spreading the fluid there. He speeds up his own hand, matching Charles pace. He’s doing his best to hang on, willing himself to last. It’s been too long since he’s known a touch other than his own, hurried and quick in the dark.

“M’gettin’ close -fuck.” He’s got Charles hip in a vice grip and thinks distantly that he might leave a bruise. The thought makes him flush even hotter and he groans into Charles mouth. “You feel so good.”

Charles rocks his hips in time with Arthurs’ strokes, fucks into his tight grasp. He rests his forehead against Arthurs, panting his name. Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard.

“Look at me.”Charles commands, and he has no choice but to obey, lost in the sensation, lost in Charles.

Charles throws his head back when he comes, strands of dark hair plastered against his neck with sweat. Arthur strokes him through it, cum on his fingers, watches his body tremble. Gorgeous.

His breathing is heavy, thighs still tremoring as he presses a bruising kiss against Arthurs mouth.

His own release hits hard then, pulled from him with a low throaty moan by Charles’ steady hand. Fire in his veins and Charles name on his tongue. He paints ribbons across his knuckles, across his own vest.

They revel in the afterglow, breathing in sync. Arthur knows in this moment that he is ruined for anyone else. Charles Smith has left his mark.

He tugs his bandanna loose from his neck and cleans them both up, though his vest is a lost cause for now. Charles tucks them both away and hums, satiated. He presses a kiss to Arthurs throat, mouths along his jaw.

“You still with me?”

“M’here.” He smiles and runs his hands up Charles’ thighs. He can’t seem to stop touching him.

“That was somthin’ else.”

Charles hums in agreement, pushes back a few stray sweaty hairs from Arthurs forehead. “Feels like we've been wastin' time, didn't know I could want you more than I already did.”

And there’s that warmth again, unfurling soft in his chest like flower blooming towards the sun. The things he says sometimes, it’s enough to make Arthur want to run with him and not look back.

“Guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time.” His hums, it turns into a soft protest as Charles moves from his lap to sit beside him once more.

“Guess so.”

There’s mischief in his eyes and a fondness in the lazy grin of his mouth that Arthur wishes he had the energy to put to paper. But his limbs are heavy from orgasm and drink, eyes half lidded as he watches Charles grab the whiskey and they both set to work polishing it off.

They spend the afternoon there, huddled close beneath the trees. Trading kisses and stories of times long past, passing cigarettes and sweets between them in the soft light of the sun filtering down through the leaves.

“Should get a move on.” Charles’ says later, passing the cigarette to Arthur for the last drag. “Dutch’ll want me on the first watch tonight.”

“Always so damn responsible.” he sighs, blowing out a stream of smoke. He tosses the spent smoke away and takes the hand offers to him. Lets himself be pulled up and into a kiss.

“Thank you, for comin’ out with me today.” He squeezes the hand in his.

“I’d go with you anywhere.” Charles whispers, hot and sweet against his lips, and it feels likes a promise.

They have a few false starts, stealing kisses tasting of chocolate and whiskey. Eventually though, responsibility wins out, and they make their way up the hill to where they’d left Taima and Clover to graze.

“About that lost time,” Charles starts as he swings himself up into his saddle. “Maybe I should find you tonight, after my watch.”

‘This man’, Arthur chuckles to himself. “Maybe you should.”

Charles gives him another smile then, warm like the setting sun.

They led the horses back towards the road and start a path towards home.


End file.
